Beetee's Hunger Games
by nchaz917
Summary: Beetee Disk, a fifteen year-old from District 3 is reaped for the 30th Annual Hunger Games. This is his story.


I was a participant in the 30th Annual Hunger Games. I considered it a death sentence when my name was plucked from the ominous glass Reaping Ball. My district partner, Flyte, was only fourteen at the time. I wanted her to make it far, but I knew she wouldn't last long. I was only fifteen at the time, but my skills with electronics were strong. This is a short tale of my Games.

Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…GONG! I stepped off my plate, dashing into the bloody mess. The Career tributes race to the center of the glistening Cornucopia. I would be their prime target, because I scored an eight in my private session with the Gamemakers. Not wanting to waste any time, I look to the nearest item that I might actually be able to acquire. A sea green backpack sits about thirty meters away from me, and I sprint towards it. The boy from one is repeatedly stabbing the girl from district eight, and I keep a safe distance from them. Soon the pack is on my shoulders, and I'm charging into the forest. The sky is an evil black color, and I know by the clothes I was given that this year's theme is most likely thunderstorms.

The anthem plays. I see Flyte, my district partner reflected in the sky. A pang of sadness engulfs me, and silent tears slide down my cheeks. This isn't fair. Flyte didn't deserve to die. None of us did. The sky brightens, and both tributes from five are shown, along with the boy from six. The girl from seven was taken, along with both tributes from eight. Both from nine. The girl from ten. The boy from eleven. Both tributes from twelve. Thirteen had gone in only the first few hours. A disturbingly pleasant feeling came upon me. More than half the tributes in the arena were dead. Maybe I actually have a chance in these Games….

When I've decided I've walked far enough, I bend over to examine my backpack in the pouring rain. I quickly pull the hood of my weather jacket up. Luckily district three was given light brown for a jacket color this year. I feel horrible for the tribute of district six…bright orange was their color. My mind begins to wander over the different jackets of the districts, and I quickly draw my attention back to my pack. Inside are two apples, some crackers, a flashlight, about a liter of water, a black blanket, and….wire! My hands slip greedily over my precious discovery. Wire was one thing I could work with. The citizens of district three would see me now with this wire. They know that now I have a chance, unlike so many tributes before me.

Four days have passed in the arena. Now the boy from ten was gone, along with the girl from eleven. The Career tributes are most likely responsible. I've taken refuge near a small pond, in which I'm afraid to leave. I can't afford to risk not finding another water source. The Careers are most likely hot on my trail now. The only normal tributes left are I of course, the girl from six, and the boy from seven. I remember the girl scoring a four in her private training session, and the boy achieving a six. Because of their mediocre and low scores, I assume the Career tributes will look for them last. In the meantime, I should stay hidden, and keep working with my wire…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! I'm jolted awake from my fitful and uneasy sleep. Was that three cannons? The Panem Anthem boomed across the arena, and I saw…both tributes from four! The next to flash into the sky is the boy from seven. Hmm… so only six of us left. I try to picture what happened with the now dead Career tributes…I'm most likely wrong, but I think that maybe the boy from district seven invaded the Careers' camp, and managed to kill two of them, before being killed by the rest of the alliance. The girl from six was in serious danger. But in even more peril than her was I.

I pack up, heading through the dark woods. I'm getting extremely sick of these thunderstorms. The end of the woods is approaching, and a horrendous crack of thunder causes me to fall into the leaves and sticks. I angrily get up, brushing off the twigs. I can now see the Cornucopia and the plates surrounding it. A pavilion is set nearby, and it's empty. Seeing my chance, I grab the green wire from my pack and stretch it to the pavilion. Next to the grass, it's completely undetectable. I race back to the edge of the woods with the rest of the wire, just as people emerge from the other side of the arena, which appears to be a barren, dry desert. My mouth drops open when I see the girl from six being dragged by the female from two. They drop her inside the pavilion, and she falls on her bottom. "So, how'd you do it, six?" cackles the girl from one. "Yeah," taunts the boy from two. "Never thought someone would make it into the final six without making a single kill." The girl stares up at the grinning Career tributes, her bottom lip trembling violently. "P-please don't k-kill me!" She whispers. "I-I'll do anything!"

BOOM! Just like that. The girl from district six is gone. The hovercraft has come to lift her up. I glance up into the sky, and get one final glimpse of her. Her bright orange jacket shines in the flash of lightning, her pigtails hanging lifelessly from her dropping face. She wasn't older than fourteen…that's for sure.

I feel angry. The Careers seem to be settling down for the night, probably to rest before coming to seek me out. This is my last chance…I have to make it work. I see a huge evergreen tree that's taller than the others. It's bound to get struck by lightning soon.

Icy rain slams against my face as I climb the evergreen. I'm aware of how dangerous it is to even be under a tree in a storm, but this is my only plan. I quickly place the wire at the top of the tree, before proceeding to quickly climb down. The Careers sit in their little pavilion, unaware that they may be about to die. I watch for a few minutes before a sickening crack surprises me. The tree has been struck. I turn to the pavilion, where the Career tributes are shaking uncontrollably…the grotesque expressions on their faces…

"Congratulations to Beetee Disk, our District Three Voctor!"


End file.
